


a better way

by kwritten



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Female Friendship, Gen, On the Run
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 08:24:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4012588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwritten/pseuds/kwritten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt: running/roadtrip, going about things differently and getting the same result, shopping; without death or a depressing ending</p><p>Katherine’s form of running was a lot less like running and a lot more like staying still. After the running. First there was lots and lots of driving. Also she had the worst taste in music. And liked the worst kind of snacks ever. If she was human she’d be diabetic. Or dead. Definitely she would be dead. She wouldn’t last as a human for more than a few days, tops.</p><p>About the thirtieth time listening to <i>Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard</i> in Katherine’s terrible, off-key, not-even-flat-that’s-not-even-singing-that’s-yowling-you-are-a-goddamn-cat, Caroline snatched the Red Vine out of Katherine’s hand, “You ate an entire bucket of licorice in twelve hours.”</p><p>“So?”</p><p>“So that’s disgusting, Katherine. I need to eat something with actual vitamins.”</p><p>“There’s vitamins in licorice.”</p><p>“There’s red dye number thirty-two in licorice.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	a better way

Katherine’s form of running was a lot less like running and a lot more like staying still. After the running. First there was lots and lots of driving. Also she had the worst taste in music. And liked the worst kind of snacks ever. If she was human she’d be diabetic. Or dead. Definitely she would be dead. She wouldn’t last as a human for more than a few days, tops. 

About the thirtieth time listening to _Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard_ in Katherine’s terrible, off-key, not-even-flat-that’s-not-even-singing-that’s-yowling-you-are-a-goddamn-cat, Caroline snatched the Red Vine out of Katherine’s hand, “You ate an entire bucket of licorice in twelve hours.”

“So?”

“So that’s disgusting, Katherine. I need to eat something with actual vitamins.”

“There’s vitamins in licorice.”

“There’s red dye number thirty-two in licorice.”

“What do you need vitamins for anyway? There’s a cooler of blood in the backseat. Surely anything from a blood bank won’t be from someone that only eats junk food. Live vicariously through your blood!”

“Can’t we please stop and eat something _green_?”

Katherine winked and pulled a bag of Jolly Ranchers out from behind her seat, “Here!”

Caroline examined the bag, “There’s only Green Apple and Blue Raspberry left.”

“I don’t like those ones,” she said with a shrug. 

Afterwards, Caroline would think of this conversation as the epitome of living with Katherine. Everything was bad music and terrible junk food and eating Katherine’s scraps. It was a blessing in disguise that they had such diametrically opposed tastes. 

 

They stopped in a town on the Oregon coast, which was about as far from reality as Caroline had ever been. It was small enough that between the two of them, everyone was compelled within just a couple of days. They moved in with a middle-aged real estate agent. Shortly after, Katherine manipulated the sweet woman into falling in love with a local grocer and then they had the two-bedroom house with a white picket fence to themselves. 

“You could have just told her to leave,” Caroline mused at the shotgun wedding. 

Katherine twinkled, “But now they are both _happy_.”

 

Katherine loved happy endings. One of the few things that they agreed on was what to watch on movie nights. (Wednesday night, Katherine’s choice.) She loved the sappiest rom-coms and never apologized for the handfuls of tissues she used up. It was almost endearing. It was also impossible to find something that she hadn’t seen before – or been in, apparently. The goodies from the 30’s and 40’s were littered with her lithe form in the background. Which was annoyingly _amazing_ because apparently everything off-screen was just as fraught and exciting as anything that made it into the script. If you chose to believe her, which Caroline did. 

 

Surprisingly, they both prioritized organization. About a week after moving into their white picket fence house, Caroline found Katherine sitting on the kitchen counter with an elaborate, leather-bound planner in her lap, chewing on the end of her pen. 

“I’m thinking about telling the mayor that we need to have a party.”

“Like the Founder’s Ball?”

“Why not?”

“And how will you accomplish this?”

Katherine smiled and it was almost like Elena except in all the ways it couldn’t be. “I’ll just tell him. They’ll do it for me. They love me. That’s how this works,” she gestured to the air. 

It wasn’t untrue. Everything about this little town and this stuffy little house and the terrible music they played on the local independent radio station was aimed towards making Katherine’s life as comfortable as possible. And Caroline’s safe. 

And boring. 

So, so terribly boring.

“Let me handle it,” she said, pouring herself a cup of coffee – that Katherine promptly stole out of her hand. 

“You really feel comfortable using compulsion to get a party out of the mayor?”

Caroline twinkled, “You’re plans are terribly limited, my friend.”

 

 

Of course, she didn’t really need to use much compulsion, the whole town already bent over backwards to make their needs met. But Caroline was a committee leader. She knew that the best way to make things happen wasn’t by asking for _one_ party each time the need arose, but to have an office and a staff to plan _all_ the events one could ever want. 

Katherine tended to take things one step at a time. She lived her long life on the principle that at any moment she might have to disappear. Which was smart. She was smart. 

Caroline was still young, she liked having plans, she liked knowing that something was coming other than another desperate flight across the country in a station wagon eating licorice. She also was raised in Mystic Falls and had a desperate faith in the power of community. 

And so she walked into the mayor’s office with a basket of red velvet cupcakes and walked out the official Community Program Organizer. 

“You’re a vampire. What do you need a job for?”

“If I don’t have _something_ to do, I’ll go crazy.”

“What if we have to leave tomorrow?”

Caroline looked up from her charts and graphs and fabric swatches at Katherine leaning in the doorway of her private office attached to a suite full of people running to and fro with purpose and direction, “If we leave tomorrow than this little town – which I happen to _like_ \- will still have a great party and a Community Calendar.”

Katherine rolled her eyes and went off to eat someone or fuck someone – or more likely, both. And Caroline had a purpose, which tempered down her homesickness. 

 

“It’s Wednesday, why do you have a picnic basket in your hand, I rented _Save the Last Dance_ and I’m determined to learn some of the choreography this time. Where’s the popcorn?”

Caroline smiled at her roommate and maybe friend and sometimes kidnapper and maker-or-whatever, “Get dressed weirdo. I have a surprise for you.”

“It’s _Wednesday_.”

“Yes, I’m aware of the day.”

“It’s _movie night_.”

“Get dressed.”

“But you _love_ schedules!” Katherine looked utterly dumfounded.

“Would you stop arguing with me and get to stepping,” Caroline looked at her watch, a lovely silver piece that was given to her by one of her more addlepated aides. “I can’t be late.”

Katherine stood in the middle of the living room and held out the DVD box helplessly, “Dance movie, Caroline. You _love_ dance movies.” When Caroline just stared, Katherine sighed. “This better be worth it.” 

In the time it took Caroline to look at her watch and back up, Katherine had run upstairs to dress and was standing next to her. Caroline looked over the wardrobe and shrugged, there was nothing she could do about Katherine’s style unfortunately, “Don’t be such a butthead.”

“I hate you.”

Caroline drove them to the little park attached to the tiny library that lead out to a rocky, windy beach. There was a large screen set up and several carnival-style mini-stalls selling popcorn, candy, soda, and even what looked like fresh taffy. A large sign above the main library doors said _Flashback Film Festival_.

“What the hell did you do?” Katherine growled.

Caroline beamed, “So I got in contact with the local chapter of the Film Society – yes we have one – and we created this event, which I’m pushing for weekly and they are hoping for monthly, but … well I guess we’ll see. When it gets cold we’ll have to move it inside to the library’s gallery. I’m hoping to also do a book club thing where---”

But she was cut off by Katherine throwing her arms around her and squealing. 

“Now this means that Wednesdays won’t be movie nights in pajamas anymore, but I kinda think that you’ll be okay with that,” Caroline said through a mouthful of Katherine’s curly hair. 

They had a great spot already waiting for them with pillows and blankets right in front with the friends Caroline had made around them on every side and a couple of Katherine’s sex toys around to cuddle her as the night grew darker, the wind coming off the Pacific ocean chilling them. 

 

“I had to start with _Casablanca_ , because it’s like that classic that everyone knows,” Caroline rolled her eyes, “but next week I have something more fun planned.”

They were examining apples from their favorite vendor at the Farmer’s Market that Caroline had whipped together with some hard resistance over the last month.

“I can’t believe that you found an old-fashioned taffy machine on such short notice.”

Caroline put a few apples in her basket and moved a few feet down to where the honey stall was, nodding and smiling to a few people, “Oh please. That took weeks of research. I was looking for that by our first week.”

Katherine picked up a bundle of strawberries – she always leaned more towards the sweet fruit, “Why?”

“Because you mentioned it once. The first time you had taffy – at a fair or something. I know it’s not the same but,” Caroline shrugged and moved on to the stall of baked goods. They always got a Danish and some fresh coffee before heading home with their fresh fruit and veggies. 

“Let’s have a dinner party?” Katherine said as she handed Caroline her coffee (two cream, one sugar).

Caroline twinkled, “I’ll grab a butternut squash. Elizabeth was talking about this recipe I’ve been dying to try!”

 

Running with Katherine Pierce was a lot like standing still once you ran far enough to catch your breath. But standing still with Caroline Forbes – it turned out – felt a lot like living.


End file.
